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Best Poems From
HERBERT NEHRLICH
(04 October 1943)
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2677.
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The Kindness Of Rhubarb Junior
Says Rhubarb to the Stinging Nettle
will we have time to judge and settle
our differences on this patch?
I say a Rhubarb is a match
to any plant that God created
and, no, we could not be related
consider widely different traits
a Stinging Nettle has no mates!
Your barbed and threatening exterior
makes you an utterly inferior
preposterously ugly weed.
And may I add, you are, indeed,
not worth the raindrops or the dew
or sunshine from a sky so blue.
God heard the words that Rhubarb spoke
he sent to Earth a puff of smoke
which dried the streams and all the land
and turned good soil into dead sand.
Now every garden expert knows
that rhubarbs need a daily dose
of water to exist at all
from Winter all the way to Fall.
The drought took hold in record time
the soil reduced to sand and lime
was not enough to now sustain
the stately but forever vain
old plant that's plain oxalic acid.
At first it swayed, still looking placid,
but soon its arms fell to the ground
without the slightest protest sound.
As Stinging Nettle watched in awe
unfolding of God's righteous, raw
and cruel punishment bestowed
the spindly fellow stood, head bowed
and worried as he needed drink
his body had begun to shrink.
For thirty days and thirty nights
God lit the stars and let their lights
illuminate the Earth below.
Day thirtyfirst brought heavy snow.
Long dead was Rhubarb without water
though next to him, a tiny daughter
had reared her head from bone dry land
it's something we can't understand.
But Stinging Nettle now was curious
to have the offspring of that furious
cantankerous and nasty plant
nearby, so he began to chant.
His voice, all cracked from dehydration
and lacking strength and modulation
was nothing even God could like.
Yet Rhubarb junior, tiny tyke
said this is beautiful my friend.
And this, for now, must be the end.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2678.
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The King
The rider could be heard
now, from afar,
foam flew off the horse's mouth
and puddles formed beneath
as he demounted now.
A scroll to give,
with urgency the King,
the news is bad, my Lord,
all troups have fallen
and their blood has stained
the earth, like Flanders' Fields.
A few have fled,
their horses ruined
and weapons strewn about,
the enemy has won,
what will your Majesty decide,
must bloodshed cease
and man come to his rightful end?
I stand before you here,
I,
who has prevailed
through countless wars,
and skirmishes abroad,
our blood has drained
and must remain
within the soil
to fertilise,
to help grow new and better men,
but we must go,
I shall not ask you
none of you
to die with me,
but you may be
of noble mind
to witness as I plunge this dagger
into my heart.
Let there be peace,
and may my shame be laid to rest
with me.
Herbert Nehrlich
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2679.
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The King Brown Snake
'Twas just a dog, I tell myself.
An animal like any other-
one gets a new one off the shelf,
forgets the old one and her mother.
The wound is deep, the pain severe.
The knife went quickly to my heart,
and twisted there...
Oh, did it smart!
I truly love you, little Tilly!
I miss your eyes, your smell, your touch.
Perhaps it's childish, dumb or silly,
I did not know it hurt so much.
'Twas something special that we had.
How foolish that I tought it'd never end.
And though this shock could surely send one mad,
I'll have to live without my dearest friend!
And if there is a God who let this happen
I'd find him quite deranged and very cruel:
I couldn't help, he could have sent a weapon,
but God, I challenge you -just you and me- a duel.
'Cause God where were you in her darkest hour?
Did you just watch, and did you have to blink?
I thought you loved the smallest little flower
then why not me and Tilly - do we stink?
An afterlife may just exist,
it seems that many do believe.
I'll punch the gates in with my fist
and find my Tilly, end our grief.
So farewell now to you and Perle.
we'll meet again and we shall smile!
Don't ask me when, my little girl,
just wait awhile just wait awhile.
I know you'll do alright up there,
your eyes alone will see to that;
the rest of you, your fuzzy hair,
a perfect ten, a perfect pet!
The company is good, you hear:
There's Max and Benson, Fritz and Willy.
Your playmates always found you dear,
so have a good time, little Tilly.
'Twas just a dog, so people say.
An animal, perhaps quite clever.
But you and I know that you'll stay
safe in my heart - with me forever.
Herbert Nehrlich
Read more: animal poems, dog poems, smart poems, farewell poems, snake poems, grief poems, flower poems, believe poems, girl poems, god poems, hair poems, smile poems, friend poems, mother poems, people poems, pain poems, alone poems, wind poems
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2680.
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The Kiss Of Silt
In your night I will purr
at that tuft of your fur,
it remains at the gate
in a red-alert state.
While you bubble and dribble
I will gingerly nibble
soon no heather is seen
you may call for the ween
like a Southern Sea sponge
you receive as I lunge
and where silt makes its bed
to soft foam it is wed.
Herbert Nehrlich
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